


Snowflakes Fall Gently

by goingtothetardis



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Christmas, Dimension-Hopping Rose, Eight is the war Doctor, F/M, Prompt Fic, Rose Meets Eight, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-17
Updated: 2017-12-17
Packaged: 2019-02-16 05:35:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13047561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goingtothetardis/pseuds/goingtothetardis
Summary: Rose lands on a peaceful world on one of her jumps and finds a familiar face.





	Snowflakes Fall Gently

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fleurdeneuf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fleurdeneuf/gifts).



> Fleurdeneuf prompted me: Eight/Rose and Snowflakes.
> 
> This got out of hand. ;)
> 
> Unbeta'd.

Rose walks quietly through the village, enjoying the peaceful calm of the night. For once she’s landed on a planet not hell bent on destroying her, and the wait for her hopper to recharge has been unexpectedly enjoyable. Much to her dismay, jumps like this one are few and far between, but she tries not to let it pull her under, choosing instead to focus on the moments of stillness like these. 

It’s Christmas time here, or whatever the equivalent is on this wintry planet. Lights twinkle merrily on buildings and trees, and people bustle around the village full of holiday spirit and cheer. Snowflakes fall gently to the ground with no sign of ending any time soon.

For a while, Rose allows herself to forget about the mission and her desperation to find the Doctor and right whatever is wrong with the multiverse. Someone hands her a full mug of mulled wine, and she sips it slowly, closing her eyes as the warmth of the liquid spreads through her veins. 

As she walks along, Rose spots a brilliantly lit park across the way, and she crosses the street. The trees are bedecked in a gorgeous display of lights, but the place is almost deserted, save for a hunched form on a bench under a tree covered in thousands of twinkling white lights. 

Rose adjusts the scarf on her head, ensuring it’s properly positioned as per the custom here, and walks over to the stranger. 

“‘Scuse me, can I sit here?” she asks, hoping the man understands her. 

“By all means,” he answers, but doesn’t look her way.

“Is everything all right?” Rose isn’t sure whether or not he’ll take kindly to her questions, but he seems rather… sad, and well, she understands that emotion quite well.

“No, it’s not,” the man says, then finally turns to Rose.

She gasps, blinking back tears that immediately spring to her eyes. 

_It’s the Doctor._

The Doctor in his eighth body, if she remembers correctly from when he’d shown her his previous incarnations after his unexpected regeneration. This one, the one that had fought in the war, had struck her as particularly handsome, and she’d told her Doctor as such, laughing when he’d gotten jealous and indignant.

Only this Doctor is a war torn version of the one she’d seen, with his long curls chopped short and his overcoat torn and battered. 

Rose pulls her scarf tighter, hoping he won’t see her blond hair and hoping meeting him now won’t result in an army of reapers. 

Taking a deep breath, Rose places a hand on his arm. “Can I help?”

The Doctor laughs, the sound harsh and uneven. “Oh, can you help?” he repeats. “I’m sorry, but there’s nothing you can do. There’s nothing anyone can do. Anyone but me, that is.”

The pain in his voice breaks Rose’s heart. This must be the Doctor at some point during the Time War. 

“Do you want..” She pauses, unsure if her idea might be too forward. “Do you want to hold my hand? I sort of know how you feel right now, and I’ve found that having a hand to hold makes all the difference in the world.”

The Doctor turns to Rose with a furrowed brow but flips his hand over on his lap without a word. She laces her fingers with his, and she sighs in relief when once more, his hand fits hers perfectly. 

“You know,” the Doctor says after several minutes, “I rather think you might be right.” He brushes his thumb against hers, and Rose squeezes his hand. 

Time passes as they sit in companionable silence, hand in hand, and when Rose’s hopper vibrates against her chest, she turns to the Doctor. “I have to go,” she says, “but thank you. You have no idea how much this meant to me.”

She stands to walk away, but turns when the Doctor tugs her back. He stands up as well, brushing the snow off his coat. “I suppose I should thank you as well, Miss–” 

“Smith,” Rose supplies, giving him her go-to false name.

The Doctor raises an eyebrow, clearly not believing her, but lets it pass. “Thank you, Miss Smith. You’ve reminded me of the importance of what I have to do, why only I can do it. The universe needs more people like you, someone willing to hold the hand of a war torn solider like myself. Thank you.”

Rose smiles at the Doctor, then pushes the button on her hopper, disappearing out of sight.


End file.
